Talk:Nova/@comment-25065826-20150425140812
I wake up in a bed. A bed. I jump off my back, sitting in the soft white sheets. Looking around, there are a few shelves, a pile of crumpled clothes and a door, all white. I put my feet on the ground, working my way to the door carefully. I'm clothed, and- There's a piece of paper pinned to the door. A timetable. I reach towards it, and my hand jerks away. Touching is bad. I pull down my sleeves, over my hands, and grasp the paper through the fabric. I hate timetables. 'Social Studies' is apparently where I should be in around 10 minutes, and, with a nifty map on the back of the paper, I decide to make my way over to the specified room. The name of the 'lesson' shows that Cloner probably had someone else do the sheet, I have a feeling his version would be crumpled and... informal. With a few wrong turns and 5 minutes late, I finally arrive at a heavy, white door. I raise my sleeve-covered hand to the door, and before I can knock the door is swung open. A teenage girl a few years older than me meets my eye, showing no emotion, and beckons me in. As soon as the door closes, a beaming smile appears on her face. "Hi there. Niamh, isn't it? I'm Chloe." She says. "What's-his-face has told me I'm to teach you skills which will actually help in the outside world he's so busy trying to blow up anyway." "And I've also heard you've been through some serious crap recently. So here I am, trying to teach you lip-reading, voice recognition and body language understanding without you trying to kill yourself from horror and pain, along with a few spoon-fuls of boredom. Here goes." She's nice, friendly and hates Cloner. I instantly think I've found a friend. She tells me I'm in confinement in an outer-ring of corridors in the building I'm familiar with. A week later, and 'Social Studies' is the only 'lesson' I don't dread. At least the disease had gotten rid of school from my life, but now, here I am with a sadist as my PE teacher. Chloe is really quite anti-Cloner and Pluto, but she says she was broken out of a police cell by a group of Pluto mutants. Her eyes are blue, and I can't tell if they're contacts or not from appearance, but she's not scared of him and may not even have powers to defend herself. My other lessons include 'Physical Training' and a lesson unlabelled on my timetable. Whatever it is, it's basically about the fight-or-flight instinct in all animals along with how to react in situations and other stuff that only matters if you get it wrong. So basically, it comes in handy if you mess up and is a complete waste of time. I pay the least attention to that one. The only other thing it does teach is survival stuff, which I do pay more attention to, but my 'teacher' is a 16 year-old who tries to show me his biceps at every opportunity. 'Physical Training' is just fitness, and power control. I've completely failed at power-control, I'm near useless. I blame fear and nerves, Cloner is my teacher, but I seem to be ok at fitness so I'm not sure what's wrong. Social studies, over the course of the last week, has taught me more than two-thirds of all I've learnt. I can read lips, which is more of a spy-technique than a combat one. I'm fine with that, I'd like to think of myself as a spy or medic if I were given the option, rather than a fighter. I've also learned to recognise how the volume, pitch, accent and strain of a voice can signify different feelings, and body-language training was one of my favourites. I'm pretty crappy at covering up my own body-language but I can tell what another's basic feelings are by their behaviour. Oh, and my languages have had a touch-up, too. But the mood is ruined as my meal arrives at my room for the last time. Cloner, who's been trying to train my powers and fitness over the past 6 or so days, is sending me into the real world in a few hours. * With nothing but a sloppy mush in my stomach, I've stepped from the compound doors into the cool air with nothing but instructions and the equipment I was found with when Cloner's group... found me again. I'm to be captured by Quantum, Pluto's main 'enemy'. No-one else. And then, find a way to blow up the base. If I don't, Emma gets killed. But I will admit, I, probably surprisingly, had never before imagined myself handing over the remainder of humanity after blowing up some of the last few capable of stopping Pluto. Regardless, I'm not going to let Cloner touch her. I'm not blowing up anything. But I can't let anyone die. I don't know what to do. So I walk.